


Bye Alpha

by MothMeetsFlame



Series: Need Alpha [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha John, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon Compliant, Childbirth, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Extremely Underage, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Dean, Relatively Smutless, daddycest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1996329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MothMeetsFlame/pseuds/MothMeetsFlame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something wrong with the baby, and John presses for abortion. As an Omega, Dean doesn't have any say in the matter. But it's his body, his life, and he takes them into his own hands.</p><p>"If John expected Dean to cry, he was mistaken. The Omega’s eyes turned hard, violent. 'No, I don’t.'</p><p>Then John said words he never thought he’d say. 'I know you don't like it, Dean, but you're an Omega, and that means you don't get a say in this.'"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bye Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah... so... I'm really, really sorry for this, like super seriously sorry. I was trying to decide whether to go the porn route or the plot route, and I decided for once to go with plot. I am a horrible human being, but you all knew that already. 
> 
> I had an idea about halfway through that made more and more sense once I did some research on it, and that led me to revising the first two in the trilogy so that my new plotline would fit. Nothing's changed much except that Dean's just eleven in this fic instead of sixteen. 
> 
> WARNING: Contains extreme underage incest between John and his son, Dean. Also contains mpreg and an emotional roller coaster than I hated writing because I couldn't seem to bring everyone back up :( Also, the first scene is the only one with smut. Yep, this fic is relatively smutless. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading :) I hope you enjoy...

John didn’t think he looked it yet, not to anyone else at least, but he couldn’t help but see Dean as anything other than pregnant. It scared him, but at the same time, he was thrilled.

Every opportunity he had, he brushed his hands over the smooth skin of his Omega’s stomach, just waiting for the day he could feel it. It was still flat, but it wouldn’t be long before he was showing.

That meant certain complications—telling Sammy for one, friends for another. Then there was the post-pregnancy to think about. Where would they go? Could they keep traveling? What about Hunting?

But those questions were wiped from his mind when his Omega’s hand brushed down his arm, getting his attention.

Bright green eyes stared straight through him, pulling him in with their presence. Then moist lips were pressed flush against his, and John moaned at the sensation. It was nice like this, tender. Ever since they’d found out, they took things slow. It was no longer the rush of heat that had them rutting together in desperation. They took their time learning each others’ bodies, pleasure prevalent in every touch.

Alone in the motel room, Dean was bare-skinned like he always was when Sammy wasn’t around. It made things much easier.

John slipped a finger into Dean’s hole, loving the gasp he let out at the feel of his Alpha inside of him. Dean was warm and tight, passage slick with arousal. John worked the finger inside, twisting and turning until he was stretched enough to add a second, then a third.

It wasn’t long before his own pants were down, and his erection was freed from its confines.

Dean sunk down on him, needy whimpers and moans increasing John’s pleasure. The Omega took him to the base, his large cock resting in the tight hole, until he was ready. The steady rocking—up and down on his Alpha’s large cock—pulled John’s orgasm to the front lines, knot swelling larger with every slow rise and descent, friction sending waves of sensation through his spine.

“Now, Alpha,” Dean commanded, and John complied.

He forced his knot through the tight ring of muscle and shot his load deep in his Omega, burst after burst flooding his channel as they were tied together.

They stayed like that all night—one provoking the other until they were a mess of sweat and come, but still loving and tender with nips and kisses between each round of sex—wishing that the sun would stay down.

Neither of them wanted to think about tomorrow. Somehow it would make it seem _real_. So they took turns distracting each other from the brightening sky, and tuned out the rest of the world in favor of the comfort of each others’ arms.

 

* * *

 

Eleven weeks of lying and hiding it from Sammy, Bobby, Caleb, Jim, and practically every other person he came into contact with, passed them by, but in true Winchester fashion, both he and Dean went with the _if we ignore it, it’s not happening_ method when it came to the baby growing inside of the little Omega.

But eleven weeks was eleven weeks, and they were in for a visit to the OCF to make sure everything was going well.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked Dean, whispering so as not to disturb the few other Omegas in the waiting room.

Dean nodded, but his foot kept tapping nervously and he wouldn’t let go of John’s arm, even gripped it tighter when a nurse came in and called their name.

“It’ll be fine, Dean,” he reassured as they stood. He didn’t believe it for a second, but it was important for Dean to believe.

Paperwork, paperwork, more paperwork for John.

Blood draw, pelvic exam, ultrasound for Dean.

Dean flinched at the coldness of the gel on his stomach, but relaxed easily enough at the doctor’s understanding smile.

“You’re doing good,” she said, making Dean blush while she positioned something just under his belly button.

John smiled at the sight and took Dean’s hand.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“For what?”

Then she smiled and pushed a button on the little machine in her hand. Sound filled the room, making Dean smile wider than John had ever seen him. The feeling was contagious, and John knew that he was grinning like a fool as well.

It was hearing the little heartbeat, quick as a stampede of horses, that made it _really_ hit him: Dean was _pregnant_. They were having a _baby_. The smile was gone in an instant to be replaced by a look of terror.

“You doing okay, Dad?” the doctor asked.

“Yeah,” he muttered, face frozen in shock. It had been years since the last time he’d done any of this. What if he was as horrible at being a father as he was the first time? “Just… a _baby_ ,” he said as if it made any sense.

She seemed to understand though. “I know. It’s a big step for you and your Omega. After we’re finished here, I’ll set you up with a prenatal plan, and if you’re still a little iffy about the baby, I have some recommendations.”

John nodded, not really listening to her words, but liking the soothing tone she took. It calmed him enough that he could focus on her next words.

 “Good news is that the heart sounds healthy. Let’s just get a quick peek at how the little one is developing and then we’re done,” she said, swapping one machine for another.

“You’re gonna look at him?” Dean asked.

The doctor nodded. “Sure am. This thing right here,” she held up her hand, “is an ultrasound machine. It lets me take a look in your womb without hurting the baby.”

“Cool.”

“Very,” she agreed. She focused her attention on the screen, lips pursed in a way that had John’s gut clenching.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later, they sat in the same position, probe against Dean’s stomach, neither of them with smiles on their faces. The doctor was pensive, the fathers nervous, doctors-in-training around them to observe and offer input. John could have cut the tension in the air with a knife.

The doctor spoke candidly, not sparing them from anything.

“…an _omphalocele_ ,” she said. The baby’s organs weren’t inside where they were supposed to be. “Thankfully, it’s not gastroschisis. The intestines and other organs seem to be protected by a thin wall, keeping them together instead of floating in amniotic fluid.”

No, they weren’t going to go in on their own. If they were, they’d have done it already.

No, there didn’t seem to be any other defects, but the baby would need to be monitored frequently to make sure they didn’t develop.

No, there wasn’t much they could do about it while it was still in the womb. Post-natal surgeries would be needed to correct the hernia—and it was a hernia, no matter how different it was to the picture in John’s head—and with as large as it was, it was likely that they would have a long hospital stay to look forward to.

Yes, it was rather big, which meant a higher chance of complications, and there was no telling what damage the organs would suffer until the baby grew.

It took them an hour to drain John of his joy at being a father. Dean understood most of it, looked to his father for explanation on the rest. The outlook wasn’t great, not for the baby, but Dean would likely be alright through the process.

“What are we going to do?” Dean asked after the doctors gave them a minute to discuss their options.

“You know what we have to do, Dean,” John said. “I love you, and there’s nothing that makes me happier than being a dad, but… think about it.”

Dean shook his head, arms wrapping protectively around his stomach. “No.”

“You can’t do this, Dean. You’re only a kid, still too small to take care of a baby with who knows what problems. Think of Sammy. He needs you, too.”

It wasn’t fair, using his brother against him, but if anything was able to make Dean see sense, it was Sam.

“I can’t,” Dean whispered, looking away. “I love him, Alpha.”

“I know.”

They were both silent for a while, just staring off into space, wishing that things were different.

“We have to do this, Dean,” John said. “We can’t keep it.”

Dean glared. “Yes we can.”

“And what are we going to do?!” John exploded. “We can’t raise it! Life on the road for a cripple? It’s cruel, Dean. Asking you to stay home with it when I’m gone, taking care of Sam on top of all of it? I’m not doing that. You have to get rid of it.”

If John expected Dean to cry, he was mistaken. The Omega’s eyes turned hard, violent. “No, I don’t.”

Then John said words he never thought he’d say. "I know you don't like it, Dean, but you're an Omega, and that means you don't get a say in this."

Dean glared at him, and John looked away in shame. He knew it wasn't fair, that the law was biased and wrong, but if it meant that John had the power to keep his son, his mate, safe, then that was what he would do.

John looked back at Dean, staring at the tiny budge that could have just been reminiscent of his toddler phase, and he saw how his Omega’s hands came up to cup it protectively. Dean couldn’t do this. He was too small, still too young for a kid, let alone one with medical problems that would require nothing less than his whole life. John walked out of the room and steeled himself to what he was about to do.

He closed the door behind him and pretended that he couldn't hear Dean's choked sobs through the door, that they didn't echo in his ear even after the entire expanse of the hallway was between them.

"Have you come to a decision?"

John nodded somberly. "I’m going to abort," he said.

"Is your Omega going to be cooperative?"

John knew what she was asking. "No restraints."

The doctor pursed her lips, not wanting to speak against the decision, but still wanting the best for his mate. "There's a large risk to your Omega if she fights it."

John gritted his teeth at the word _she_.

"I could sedate her, if you'd prefer?"

John didn't answer, but the doctor wasn't really looking for one.

He followed her back down the hallway, staccato heels clicking in a way that drove the Alpha crazy. Only seconds later, they were at the door to the exam room. It was much quieter now, no sobbing as far as John could tell from behind the door. Dean was good at that, at not letting others see the pain. He would have put on a brave face as soon as he knew they were coming.

There was something else Dean was good at, though: hiding.

The door opened to an empty room, no Omega in sight.

"Get security," the doctor ordered one of the nurses. "The Omega can’t have gone far. She’s probably still in the building."

John despaired. He'd taught Dean a lot of things over the years, but this wasn't one of them. It wasn't something John had instilled in Dean's mind, something he could find a pattern for to predict where Dean would go next. This was something Dean had learned on his own.

Years of shitty motel rooms all across the country, taking care of Sammy, dealing with outsiders, blending in, pretending to be anything other than a scared kid, a scared _Omega_ , gave him something John never could have taught him this young.

Dean knew how to disappear, and John would never be able to find him.

 

* * *

 

“Fuck, Jim. Will you just stop for a second?”

“This is the worst thing you’ve ever done, Winchester. I like to think of myself as pretty open minded, but this?”

“I know already. Just… please can you help me find Dean?”

Jim scoffed on the other line and John hit his head against the wall.

He knew it was hopeless, but he had to do _something_ , and there was only so much he could do alone.

“If what you told me is true, I’m not sure I even _want_ to help you.”

“It’s bad, Jim. Real bad. He can’t do this on his own. Dean… This is something he needs help with. I know I shouldn’t have mated him in the first place, but this isn’t about that.”

Jim’s sigh this time was sympathetic. “I know you, John. If there was anything else you thought you could do, it wouldn’t have happened, but an abortion? You know my thoughts on that. I’m all for respecting other peoples’ wishes, but you didn’t do that. You abused your power as his Alpha. Dean was right to run.”

“I know.” John hit his head again. “But I need to find him. You know that he won’t last much longer. Once people notice he’s pregnant, he won’t be able to pass as an Alpha.”

John knew that the pastor didn’t need John to spell the rest out for him. With his job, he was used to dealing with the worst the world had to offer. Unprotected Omegas weren’t safe on the streets.

“I’ll make a few calls,” Jim relented.

“Thank you.” Relief flooded through him as he realized that he wasn’t alone in this, not anymore.

“I’m not doing this for you.”

“I know, but… thank you anyway.” John paused.

“Something else?”

“How’s Sam?” John asked. It had been a while since he’d spoken to his youngest son. Nearly two weeks passed since Dean had run out, and he hadn’t talked to anyone since, the time flying by as he looked for his Omega.

“He’s fine.” It was obvious that Jim wasn’t in the mood for more conversation.

“Okay. Can you do me another favor? Please, Jim,” he added before the pastor could protest.

Jim grunted, and John took it as an agreement.

“Don’t tell Sam about Dean being an Omega. Everything else—running away, him being sick, the works—you can tell him however you want, but Dean wants to be the one to break the news to Sam.”

There was a long pause, and John thought for sure that Jim was going to tell him just where to put it, but he was surprised once again when instead of insults being hurled at him, he heard, “of course.”

The line went dead as Jim hung up.

John dialed Bobby’s number again. “Come on, come on, come on…”

_This is Bobby Singer’s direct hotline. You should not have this number. Beep._

“Singer, it’s Winchester. Call me back. It’s important. It’s about Dean.” He hung up his phone and sat on the edge of the hotel room bed, head in his hands.

Two weeks since Dean had run away. John couldn’t find him anywhere. His Omega hadn’t gone back to the motel room as far as John could tell. His clothes were still in the duffle bag and his toothbrush was still on the sink. Dean was alone with nothing but the clothes on his back.

John was beyond worried. He was terrified that something was going to happen to Dean, that something already had.

He called Bobby again— _This is Bobby Singer’s direct...—_ and hung up as soon as he realized that the man wasn’t home. Singer knew everything there was to know about his boys. If anyone would know how to find Dean, it would be that man. He loved the kids as much as he would his own children, looked after them enough to be considered a father. The man wasn’t answering though.

On a Hunt, his mind whispered. Probably wouldn’t be back for a couple of weeks.

 

* * *

 

John’s phone rang, waking him instantly. He didn’t sleep much these days, and when he did he slept lightly.

“Jim?” he answered.

“Singer,” came the gruff reply.

John bolted straight up in bed. “Did Jim get ahold of you? Doesn’t matter. Bobby—”

“John,” the man cut him off. “Just listen.”

John went pale at the man’s hard tone, but he didn’t speak.

“I have Dean with me,” he said. “In the other room”

“Thank God,” John whispered. _Thank God_. “How?” he asked. “Where’d you find him?”

John could hear Bobby take a deep breath over the line before he answered. “I didn’t. He came to me around… five months ago.”

Five months.

“Five months?! What the hell?! I’ve been out of my mind looking that boy, and you’ve had him for five months?!”

“Can it, Winchester,” Bobby growled. “I ain’t gotta explain myself to you. Kid came to me in tears. Daddy knocked him up and told him to kill the baby. You’re lucky to still be in the land of livin’ so far as I’m concerned. I don’t know who you think you are, Winchester, but if Dean hadn’t told me the whole story, I’d’ve hunted you down and killed you myself.”

John was silent for a moment, letting Bobby reign in his anger before he asked, “so why are you calling me then?” He wasn’t sure he really wanted the answer.

Bobby’s voice was no less angry when he spoke, but the words came out quiet. “Dean’s not doing so good, John. Placenta attached itself where it wasn’t supposed to and he’s in a bad way. They’re not too sure what’s gonna happen, but they’re delivering early. Have him scheduled for exactly thirty-four weeks. He, uh… didn’t want me to call, but I figure he needs you. Doc said that having his Alpha would increase his chances or something like that.”

“I’m leaving right now. Where are you?”

 Bobby rattled off the name of the address and some quick directions.

“Thanks, Bobby,” John said, voice thick.

“Just get here,” came the angry reply.

John set the phone down and looked around the room. Newspaper clippings and various books littered the tables, clothes were strewn about, weapons lied haphazardly around the room. What he didn’t need, he left. What he did, he tossed in the closest duffle he could find and dumped it in the car.

He needed a shave, needed a _shower_ , but he didn’t have time for that.

Five minutes after the call, he was in the driver’s seat of the Impala, speeding as quick as he could to Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

Two days in the car with stops only to rest and eat had him looking like a homeless drifter. One out of two was enough most times, and he realized that the shower would be a good idea, especially since he was going to see Dean.

Shit. Shower. Shave. Took him twenty minutes—definitely slacking—and then he was on the road again, just a half hour away from the hospital his Omega was staying at.

“Winchester,” John gave the lady his name at the front desk.

“Winchester,” she repeated, searching. “Relation?”

“He should be in the maternity ward. I’m his mate.”

“Yep. Fifth floor, room five-two-three. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

The elevator was too slow, but John held himself together, knowing that it was the quickest way to Dean. He bolted as soon as the doors opened, half-jogging toward his Omega’s room.

He met Bobby in the hallway, not altogether unperturbed by the man’s anger, but ignoring it nonetheless.

“How is he?” John asked. He wanted to be prepared for anything he might see.

“’Bout the same. He’s losing blood ‘cause of the placenta thing. Doc says that if they weren’t monitoring the baby so close, they wouldn’t’ve caught it in time. Even so, Doc’s giving him maybe a fifty-fifty chance with this one.”

John was surprised to find his hands trembling, blood running cold.

“Look,” Bobby said. “He’s goin’ in tomorrow for the C-section, so you don’t have too much time with him, but the Doc told me that if you’re in delivery, it’ll increase his chances because of hormones and mating something or other.”

John nodded, unable to say anything.

“But let me tell you something right now, Winchester,” Bobby warned. “You even look at that boy funny and your head’ll be on a pike faster than you can count. He needs support, not someone rubbing it in his face.”

John nodded. He wouldn’t do that, not now—not _ever_ —but with their last conversation in mind, John knew why Bobby felt the need to warn him. “I won’t,” he said, finding his voice even if it was more of a hoarse croak than anything.

Bobby nodded, content with the promise, but he still didn’t make a move to allow John into the room. “Something else,” he said. “They told us that if it’s a choice between him or the baby, they’re saving the baby.”

John didn’t have energy left in him to be angry at that.

Bobby moved from his position in front of the door and John opened it.

“Dean.” He sighed the name as if it was something precious because it _was_.

“Dad?” His Omega’s eyes were wide but there was a hint of something there—happiness, John thought, or maybe it was just relief.

Seeing Dean after the last five months was shocking. John knew he was nearly eight months along, that he’d be huge and sick from the pregnancy, that being so young, his stomach would practically dwarf him.

Seeing him in person though, it was as if all of his nightmares and his dreams collided because here was Dean, right in front of him. Here was his mate, his Omega, alive and safe and relatively unharmed. He hadn’t been kidnapped, beaten, raped, murdered, or any of the things his mind whispered to him in the dark.

But it was also his worst nightmare because even though Dean was here, he might not be tomorrow. His face was gaunt, eyes dark rimmed with an obvious lack of sleep. His stomach was huge compared to the rest of him, a living thing taking residence, unable to comprehend what it was doing to the Omega that would birth it.

He was alive—but probably not for long.

He was safe—but John couldn’t protect him from this.

He was unharmed—but he wasn’t, not really.

John was surprised to find tears running down his cheeks. He couldn’t lose another mate. He just couldn’t. It would break him.

“Alpha,” his Omega whispered, arms wide, calling him.

John couldn’t refuse.

He took the three strides to Dean’s bedside and buried his face in the crook of his Omega’s neck, scenting him while he still could.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I’m sorry.”

Dean didn’t say anything, just held onto him tight. John felt wet drops on his shoulder and knew that Dean was crying too.

“Stay, Alpha,” he whispered. “Please?”

“Always,” he promised.

 

* * *

 

John looked down into the incubator, watching the baby writhe and cry. He could touch with the gloves—he’d been given permission. He could soothe him and comfort him and talk to him. He could do a lot of things, but glaring seemed to be his biggest priority.

Talking came second. “We should have gotten rid of you,” he said. “You weren’t supposed to even be born. I don’t know why you were.”

Despite his feelings, it wasn’t a fetus anymore. It was a baby. He’d been called many thing, but no matter how angry he was, he wasn’t a baby killer. The impulse was there, fueled by hurt and anger, but he wouldn’t act on it

“You killed him,” John whispered. “Three fucking times. Do you know how hard it was to be there? Watching while they brought him back again and again. He’s eleven years old, and you killed him.”

“No, he didn’t.”

John turned around to face the nurse in the doorway. _Kate_ , her nametag read.

“He didn’t kill his mother.”

“Yes,” John told her. “He did.”

She didn’t roll her eyes, but John knew she wanted to. “Last I heard, his mother was alive and well in the ICU.”

He knew she didn’t know any better. She couldn’t have known about all of the blood that practically gushed from Dean’s body when they removed that damn placenta. She wasn’t there when he’d had to watch as his Omega flatlined not once, not twice, but three times while they tried to deliver the baby. There was no way she’d even heard about how he almost hadn’t made it, how they almost gave up on him—would have given up, if not for his incessant yelling that they just _fucking do something before he’s gone for good_. She didn’t know any of that.

“You don’t know anything,” he whispered, turning back to glare at the child that almost tore his whole world apart.

“He’s a baby,” she argued.

“He never should have been,” he countered.

She looked at him, terrified. “You can’t think that.”

“Why the hell not? It’s true. I should have gotten rid of him when I had the chance, and now we’re stuck with him. He killed Dean, and now he’s going to ruin what’s left of his life.”

“You’re keeping him,” she surmised with horror. “You’re keeping the baby.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

“You can’t raise him like that,” she nearly yelled. “He can’t grow up with all of that in his head. You’ll ruin him.”

“Then _you_ take him,” John said angrily, looking away from the baby for the first time since she walked in.

Her eyes hardened, expression challenging. “Fine. I will.”

He was taken aback. “What?” he asked dumbly.

“I said, fine.”

“You’ll take him, just like that?” He knew she was upset, angry even, at his lack of empathy toward his own baby, but he couldn’t feel anything but anger towards the child and a budding hopefulness at her offer.

“Sign him over, and I’ll take him home, raise him. But,” she warned. “He’ll be _my_ son. Not yours. Not Dean’s.”

For some reason, her words gave him pause.

“Take your time to think about it,” she said. “Once you sign the paperwork, you can’t take it back.” She left without another word, leaving the infant alone in his incubator, with nothing but glass between John and his baby.

 

* * *

 

The first time Dean woke, it was obvious that he was in pain.

Low moans pulled John from his drifting. He only watched Dean writhe on the bed for a few seconds before he was pressing the call nurse button and demanding they give him something for the pain.

“’lpha?” Dean moaned.

“I’m here,” John said, grabbing Dean’s hand.

“Baby,” the Omega whispered.

“Shhhh,” John soothed. He watched the nurse inject something into Dean’s IV. “Just sleep.”

The second time Dean woke, John was sure he wasn’t in any pain, but that didn’t make him any more coherent.

“Wh’rs th’by?”

“What? You’re not making any sense, Dean.” He almost smiled, but then Dean repeated himself.

“Wh’rs th’ baby?” he asked.

“Just sleep,” John whispered. “You need sleep if you’re going to get better.”

Dean nodded, trusting his Alpha to take care of their son, and drifted off again.

It was like that for the first couple of days. Dean drifted, sleeping for hours at a time, breaking only to ask about the baby in a drug-induced haze before closing his eyes again, basking in the warmth of the Alpha by his side.

It was inevitable though that Dean would get better.

“Where is he?” Dean asked him on the third day when he was no longer in the ICU recovering from the horrors of childbirth. The pain meds they had him on were relatively mild compared to the drugged-out state he’d been in before.

“Dean,” John tried to pacify him. “Just settle down. You need to rest.”

“Where. Is. He.” Dean’s eyes were hard.

John didn’t answer, just turned away, unable to look at his Omega.

“Where is he?” Dean whispered.

“He…” John cleared his throat, preparing himself for the lie. “He… didn’t make it.”

John closed his eyes tight as he listened to Dean sob into his pillow, loud and raw, broadcasting a pain that John didn’t ever want his son to feel. Still, he didn’t correct himself, didn’t tell him the truth.

“I’m sorry.” It was all he could think of to say. He knew it wouldn’t be enough even if Dean could hear him over his loud cries.

The sound grew louder and louder, the cries more hoarse. Dean coughed hard, trying to dispel the tears from his throat, but all it did was force him to hiccup as he sobbed, despair taking over.

John couldn’t take it. He hit the call nurse button again, surprised when it was Kate who entered to take care of him.

“Give him something, please,” John begged.

Kate ignored him as she approached Dean’s bed. “You have to settle down, honey,” she soothed. “Or you’ll tear your stitches.”

If anything, his cries were louder as she tried to calm him.

She pursed her lips and glared at John for a moment before she did as he asked and got something to put him down.

Within seconds, Dean’s sobs had died down to tiny hiccups, limbs going lax against the mattress while his eyes slid close.

“But I loved him,” Dean murmured with the last of his consciousness.

“I know you did, sweetheart,” Kate whispered, running her fingers through his hair. “And I’m sure… What was his name?” she asked.

John couldn’t hear his reply, but Kate smiled at whatever she heard.

“And I’m sure Adam loved you too.”

John was relieved when Dean nodded and curled into a ball, falling asleep almost immediately. He looked so small on the bed, so young. He shouldn’t have had to go through any of this.

“You change your mind?” Kate asked, unsympathetically.

John wanted to be angry, wanted to glare, but he was just too tired. He couldn’t do this anymore. “You have the paperwork?”

She nodded.

“Let’s get this over with.”

 

* * *

 

Dean didn’t speak for a month after that.

He hardly even looked at John.

Bobby spent the majority of his time glaring, but John could only be thankful that the man believed what Dean did, that the baby had died. John was the only one who knew, just him and Kate. No one else ever would.

John hadn’t wanted the baby to ruin his son’s life, but John was just beginning to realize that it really didn’t matter what he’d decided. The baby was present in every fiber of Dean’s being.

Dean didn’t cry, John was surprised to discover. Other than his breakdown in the hospital, he hadn’t shed a single tear for his baby. Two weeks after he’d been allowed home—on bed rest, the doctor was adamant, so they’d gone straight to Bobby’s—Dean asked, “where is he now?” John whispered back, “Hunter’s funeral,” and that was all that was said about that.

John missed his boy’s carefree smile, hated the haunted look that replaced the shine in his Omega’s eyes. Dean was empty, drained of everything that had made him who he was. There were only two things he had left in the world: John and Sammy.

The former was a stretch at best. Dean knew it. John knew it too.

Dean didn’t ask any more about the baby. Three months after everything had happened, Dean was up and moving, learning the basics of Hunting, taking care of Sammy who was just so happy that Dean wasn’t sick anymore that it was as if he’d forgotten the months they’d gone without contact.

Dean took care of the boy as if he was his own son, and John’s chest ached knowing that he’d had the opportunity to watch his son flourish, and that John had thrown it away.

It was at that point that he realized the extent of what had been done to the Omega. His womb was barren now, the complications having robbed him of the opportunity to bear more children. The baby had been his one and only, and as far as Dean was concerned, that baby had died just hours after he’d been born. He didn’t need suppressants to hold his heat at bay, was now essentially a Beta—nothing special to anyone, just average now, a regular kid.

John decided then to let him try and be one. He left on Hunts more often to give Dean the opportunity to just be normal.

Two more years had John coming home to the sight of a heavy makeout session between Dean and some girl—another Beta, thank God.

Sixteen had him dating regularly.

At eighteen, he was a regular ladies’ man.

He and John didn’t touch, hardly said two words to each other unless they were updates and orders. They weren’t mates anymore, hadn’t been for a long time. They were hardly even father and son.

When Sam left to Stanford, Dean went with him—not to California, but to Nevada, then New Mexico, South Carolina, Hunting and killing what needed to be killed. Dean kept in touch, weekly updates to tell him where he was headed, but that was it.

It was then that he’d gone to visit the baby—Adam, Kate had called him.

Twelve years since the night he’d been born, but all John could think of as he stepped through the doorway was just how long a living person could haunt their family.

**Author's Note:**

> I hate myself for this fic. I don't like Dean so miserable, so empty. Why the hell couldn't I keep it happy? What's that? You agree? Comment and let me know :)
> 
> On another note, this series will have one more installment. I know I said it was the last, but I just couldn't leave it alone. "My Alpha" is about halfway written right now. After I post the next in Stuff Your Pie Hole: The Series and the slow build Wincest fic that I have a request for, it will be finished, polished, and posted. Thanks for sticking with me :)


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